


The Social Glue

by queeninthenorth (misshiss)



Series: The Lost Boys [1]
Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Accidents, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misshiss/pseuds/queeninthenorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mark, what the hell?"</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"When someone gives you safety instructions, you listen and you follow them. You're... God, you're just as irresponsible as you ever were."</p>
<p>"Yet you're cuddling me after five years of radio silence."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An accident brings all of the four boys back together. Uncomfortable truths resurface and soon they must fight for the life of one of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roaroftheninth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roaroftheninth/gifts).



> I have been working on this story for about a year now. It's the accumulation of my personal head canon, which was mostly worked on with roaroftheninth. So this story is for her.
> 
> I can't promise it'll actually meet anybody else's expectations or be very entertaining, but we'll see. :D

"What do you mean, you're leaving?" Mark is sitting on his office chair, watching his screens (yes, he has several of them) out of the corner of his eye. It's a nervous habit, which he can't even stop when Dustin is saying these things to him, things that make no sense whatsoever.

Dustin shrugs awkwardly. "I'm leaving. Look, Facebook doesn't need me. Not anymore. Not the way it used to."

There's all kind of subtext in the way Dustin speaks, the way he'll look really close to Mark's eyes, but won't quite meet them. It's making Mark feel uncomfortable, like there's something he should know, but just doesn't quite get. People keep telling him that emotions aren't really his forte. Of course he knows this; how could he not when he has somehow managed to fuck up every single meaningful relationship he's ever had?  
Still, he thought he knew Dustin and he thought he knew just where they stood. It's a disconcerting thought that he didn't even know his best friend was no longer willing to put up with him and secretly planned his escape route.

Of course it's true that Dustin has become less important to the company over time. There are many professionals on board now who can do the same things Dustin does - only more efficiently and less brilliantly.

Eventually Mark has to force himself to admit this to Dustin as well. "True. You should leave."

For a moment Mark's words are hanging over the table between them and Mark thinks that this is also wrong. There never used to be anything between them during in the beginning. They'd sit right next to each other, coding and drinking beer and feeling like they owned the world.

"So... I'll always be available if you need any help, of course."

"Of course."

"Yeah, so... I'll leave then."

"Okay."

When Dustin stands up from the uncomfortable visitor's chair in front of Mark's desk, he looks old. It's not just the low chair forcing him to wriggle his hips to get back up or the fact that, when the light is just right (or wrong), he has fine lines around his mouth and eyes. Mark realises, for the first time ever, that they've all grown older.

With Chris it was easier to accept. Chris is an old soul and while he definitely has a playful side as well, it was always obvious to everyone who knew him that Facebook would not be the last life station for him.

Dustin... that's more difficult.

Seeing him like this makes Mark realise just how far they have come, how many things they've done together and that it all ends today. Now. 

There are so many things Mark could say and so many things that would be true. The thing is, Mark is twenty-seven years old now. He knows that sometimes he has to lie and sometimes he has to smile even when he doesn't mean it. He knows that now and he does these things and while he'd prefer to work, to code, to create, he also knows he can't do that anymore. He's CEO, he has other responsibilities.

But he can't ever not be honest with Dustin. And so he says nothing at all and watches him leave.

 

***

 

"I think you should do it, Mr. Zuckerberg," Milo, one of Facebook's new employees, says shyly. 

"Of course you should do it, Mark. Now don't be a baby," Evelyn, Dustin's former assistant, hisses. "It's gonna be fun."

Mark doesn't think it's gonna be fun. He isn't even sure why they're all here. The monthly employee activity was Dustin's idea. Dustin is gone now. Dustin won't care if they do this whole indoor rock-climbing thing or not.

"And these things are safe, yes?" Mark snaps at the man holding out the rope to Mark. He wants to fasten it to the... the thing attached to his chest, it seems. Mark is not totally bad at physical activities and he's not afraid of heights, but this seems a little excessive. Dustin would smile at him in this open, unguarded way of his and Mark would climb.

Milo and Evelyn aren't really an adequate replacement and unless they step up their game they won't be able to convince him.  
Unfortunately two things happen then. Someone who isn't even supposed to be here enters the hall and Evelyn reads Mark. He has no idea how she does it, but Evelyn always knows how to deal with people. With shy Milo she is gentle and sweet. Mark, however, usually gets the full force of her wrath if he doesn't sign papers he was supposed to deal with weeks before or is being an asshole. She is mean to him a lot of the time.

"Now, look who's there. I bet Eduardo's not scared to climb that tiny little wall."

Eduardo Saverin. He's here. Mark doesn't know why Eduardo is in San Francisco or why he chose this particular day and hour to go climbing, but he's here all right. Accompanied by a bunch of young, good-looking people, he walks into the hall and positions himself in front of the wall like he's done that sort of thing before.

Mark can't have that. "Strap me in," he hisses at the employee who hastens to do so. The Facebook employee outings have become infamous and he probably wants them to come back and spend more money at his place.

"All right, Mr. Zuckerberg, it's really easy. All you need to do is-"

Mark doesn't listen. He can't listen to him because he's too focused on Eduardo. Why is he here? It's not like in the beginning, right after the lawsuit, when Mark would obsessively google Eduardo. But he does keep tabs on him, making sure to be aware of the major events going on in Eduardo's life.

He should have known this. He should have known Eduardo would come back to the US and he should have known that this is the sort of thing Eduardo would do with his own employees. Only that Eduardo would actually enjoy the bonding and the drinks and the smiling and all the things Mark hates. Eduardo never had to fake any of it. He just is that nice.

Gritting his teeth, Mark starts climbing. The employee was right. It isn't really hard to do once you get the hang of it. Mark knows it's only the beginner's wall and it's designed to make you feel good and confident about yourself. Still, it feels too good to be true. Mark has never learned believed in that old tale that if something seems too good, it probably is. His life experiences have never taught him that; whatever Mark touches, it turns to gold.

Mark suddenly misses one of the rock-shaped plastic handholds and if he'd bothered to listen he would know he's supposed to say a command, to let the person holding his rope on the ground know to pull it tight. But he didn't and he says nothing. He just falls.

 

***

 

When Mark opens his eyes again, he feels a familiar presence. It's impossible to forget Eduardo's unique scent, this mix of clean boy (man) and expensive shampoo and unresolved issues. Eduardo is holding Mark's head against his thigh and he seems angry.

"Mark, what the hell?"

"What?"

"When someone gives you safety instructions, you listen and you follow them. You're... God, you're just as irresponsible as you ever were."

"Yet you're cuddling me after five years of radio silence."

Eduardo's expression changes, minutely at first, but soon his look of worried annoyance becomes anger and Mark knows it's all Eduardo can do to not just push him off his lap and tell him to go to hell. Why he even ended up there in the first place, he doesn't know. He'll have to ask Evelyn about it. Speaking of the devil... she comes towards him with a man carrying a huge leather suitcase. A doctor's bag. Mark rolls his eyes.

"Please, I had a helmet on my head and I can't really have fallen all that far. In fact, I can calculate the exact-"

"Shut the fuck up." Eduardo looks more than annoyed now, he looks murderous. "I was going to have a nice evening with my new co-workers and you ruined it by... by being there and falling and being an asshole. Why are you even here?"

"Excuse me. Had I known you were going to come, I wouldn't have chosen this place. I certainly didn't want to be treated to a brand new episode of the Eduardo Saverin Guilt Trip Show."

This time Eduardo does push him off. Mark has gotten better at reading others, but he still quite can't place the emotions flitting over Eduardo's face. Is it anger or sadness? He doesn't know and it doesn't matter because Eduardo and his co-workers (ah, so he doesn't have a new company here) leave.

 

***

 

The best thing about Mark's climbing stunt is that he does not need to be social afterwards. The doctor Evelyn called told Mark he had a light concussion. They drive him home, put him in bed and tell him to call if he needs anything. They don't even take away his laptop, which Dustin or Chris would do if they were here. Or Eduardo. Back in Harvard he would sometimes just snap it shut without asking Mark's permission or giving him time to save any of his changes and declare it was time to go for a walk because Mark's skin was starting to look green from his lack of sunlight exposure. Mark never did understand why that would give him green skin, but he always gave in because Wardo asked.

When Mark's cell phone rings he thinks it's Eduardo. In this one crazy second he really is convinced that Wardo is the only person who would call him now, who would care about his well-being.

When he sees Dustin's name and the goofy photo he took of himself with Mark's cell camera he remembers. He remembers that Dustin is doing the hovering and worrying now because Eduardo hates him. 

He picks the phone up on the third ring. "Yeah?"

"Dude, I heard. Are you okay? Do you need someone to come over and make sure you're not falling asleep or something?" There's a faint note of worry in Dustin's voice and for some reason it annoys Mark. Dustin isn't supposed to worry about Mark. It's not even that Mark minds it, it's just that he doesn't wantDustin to do it. 

"I don't need anyone," Mark replies. "I'm fine."

"But-"

"I told you I'm fine." With that he hangs up.

Their relationship has changed after Chris left. Before it was Chris who dragged Mark out for walks or who helped him decorate his house so it wouldn't look like he's still fifteen years old. 

"Just in case you ever... have anyone over, you know?" Chris' voice had been full of subtext as well and Mark decided not to think about it then.

When Chris went to work for Obama, Mark stopped watering the plants. Dustin had to do it for him and while he wasn't exactly gentle with them, they didn't die. Not all of them.

Mark realises that he misses the way things were before Chris left. Not only did he have Chris on his side (which is always a good thing), but his relationship with Dustin was so different. Dustin was his best friend who he could hang out with, play Halo with, eat pizza with. Now none of these things are true anymore because it seems like Dustin wants to take care of him.

Mark really has enough of people trying to treat him like a child. So maybe his diet isn't well-balanced sometimes and he forgets to water the plants. It's nothing other people don't do as well. When you have a demanding job mundane matters sometimes lose their signifance. But Mark doesn't need other people. He never has. And maybe that's why they keep pushing into his life; to somehow make their relationship with him matter.

When the door bell rings he doesn't really want to get up and answer. It'll be Dustin. Dustin lives a couple of blocks away and considering his car's maximum speed and his reckless driving style he would have had ample time to come here.

"I told you, I'm fine," Mark snaps when he opens the door, but it's not Dustin at all. 

It's Eduardo and he looks... Mark doesn't even have any words for the way Eduardo looks. He pushes past Mark without even bothering to ask for consent and that's bothering Mark. Eduardo isn't like that. Something about him has changed and while Mark is glad he doesn't look like a kicked puppy anymore (God, how he hated that guilttripping), he isn't sure this is really an improvement. Eduardo looks hard and it's not exactly a good look.

"So you have a concussion. Because you couldn't follow an easy, fool-proof order."

"I don't really know why you're here and I don't really care. Just leave. I want to be alone."

"Yeah, you always want to be alone. You just can't handle anyone getting close to you because then you'd have to feel stuff, right? And you're so fucking scared of being hurt that you prefer not to feel anything at all."

It sounds practised, like Eduardo has really thought this through and that, at least, is in character. While he is often emotional, Eduardo rarely is a fool. Just... one time he was and that was enough to make both of their lives miserable for a really long time.

"Why?"

Mark needs to know why Eduardo is bringing all of this up now. Why can't he just let the past be the past? Suddenly it's getting hard to breathe. Mark doesn't want to talk about this. Mark doesn't want to know about any of this. His head is throbbing and suddenly all he wants is to sleep, to curl up in his blankets and forget about the world for a little while.

Eduardo seems to have other plans. "Because you're driving me mad," he hisses. "Everything about you is just-"

Eduardo helplessly throws up his hands, like he can’t even speak to Mark anymore and this helplessness scares Mark for some reason. If no one else can deal with him, if no one else has any answers to the question of what do about Mark, then how can he ever co-exist with others?

"You're a fucking idiot, Zuckerberg," Eduardo hisses. "You're reckless and you think you're always right about everything."

"Usually I am."

"You're not right about everything," Eduardo replies. "You never know, right? You never knew how much I loved you. How much Chris and Dustin love you."

Mark notices the past tense when Eduardo is referring to himself and he chooses to ignore it. He can't really think about it right now. If he doesn't still love Mark, then what the hell is he doing here? Why is he doing this? And what does he even mean by ’love’? No, no, he can't think about it.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You need to let other people into your life, Mark. I know you don’t like the idea of that and I don’t like being the one who has to tell you, but it’s true.“

“Since when do you care what’s going on in my life?“ Mark crosses his arms over his chest, his lips pursed. He doesn’t want the answer to this question because he has a feeling it’s going to be painful and maybe, just maybe Eduardo is right and he does have a problem letting people into this life. Not that he would ever admit this.

“I have never really stopped,“ Eduardo snaps. “Just because I hate you, doesn’t mean I want you dead.“

“That’s how you used to feel about monkeys. You hate monkeys, yet you donate an absurd sum of money to monkey-“

“Mark, I haven’t come for witty repartee.“

“Then why have you come?“ Because Eduardo knows Mark and he knows that witty repartee is a specialty of Mark’s, cruel as it may be. “It’s just a concussion. It’s not gonna kill me and if I really needed a nurse, I could have just called Dustin.“

Eduardo suddenly looks very tired, like all energy has drained from his body, and he nods. “I know. You’ve never needed anyone, have you?“

When Eduardo leaves, he doesn’t slam the door, but he might as well have. The silence is ringing in Mark’s ears and maybe it’s just the discussion, but he suddenly feels like crying. That’s an urge he has neither had nor given in to in years. Instead he does the only sensible thing one can do when one has a raging headache and goes to sleep.

 

***

 

From: D-Man  
To: Magic  
Y rnt u takin any of my calls???????

From: Christopher R. Hughes  
To: D-Man  
I’m in the middle of something. What’s up?

Chris never gets to send the text because he has a new incoming call. ’D-Man’ is flashing on his screen and he knows Dustin won’t be ignored, not this time. He hasn’t called Chris this often in a single day since the beginning of Facebook. Their friendship has cooled down a little, which is only natural since Chris lives at the other side of the country and has completely different interests from Dustin. Sometimes he thinks that, as crazy as it sounds, Mark was the social glue that held all of them together.

“What’s up, D-Man?“

“Mark is in hospital.“

Chris is sitting at a posh desk in a posh office, twirling a fountain pen between his fingers. This is a safe place, far away from Mark, Dustin, Eduardo and all the crazy that follows these guys. But they have invaded his private space yet again, have forced him of all people to react to this in a way that’ll make everything all right again.

“What happened?“

For a crazy moment Chris thinks that Eduardo might have tried to kill Mark. It’s absurd, but Chris knows that Eduardo is back in the US and… all of this is so goddamn surreal he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. But he will have to because that is what Chris does.

“He went climbing with the people from the office. He fell and had a concussion and then went to sleep and apparently the concussion wasn’t as light as everyone thought and now he’s not doing well at all and-„

“I’ll catch the next flight out.“

With that Chris hangs up. Pressing his hands against his face, he allows himself a moment of quiet. It’ll all explode around him soon, but for now he just wants a moment of rest.

 

***

 

Dustin is pacing outside Mark’s room. He hasn’t been allowed inside yet and somehow he’s grateful for that because he doesn’t quite know how to handle this situation. Chris would know exactly what to do and Dustin just doesn’t. He has never been particularly good at handling other people. In a way he’s not that very different from Mark; they both lack the social skills to connect with other people in a meaningful way, but instead of being a cold-hearted bitch about it, Dustin is nice. And that is all people ever see in him: the nice guy, the guy who will make a silly joke to lighten the mood. No one has ever looked at Dustin with respect or admiration or any of these things. Sometimes he thinks he’d even take fear over ’he’s like one of those bugs that look like they’re smiling and they’re kind of disgusting, but also cute’.

What people never understand about either Mark or Dustin is that they know all about their own shortcomings. They don’t need to be reminded of them.

Dustin’s self-loathing is only interrupted when he hears hurried footsteps coming down the hallway. It sounds like expensive shoes on cheap floor and he knows who it is before he even looks up. He has to be here, of course.

“Mark’s assistant called me,“ Eduardo explains, sitting down next to Dustin. “How is he?“

Eduardo looks out of place on the cheap plastic chair in his expensive suit and tie and shoes. Dustin never dresses for show, so he always blends in. Perhaps he should try wearing suits or something.

“Not so good,“ Dustin replies, shrugging. “They’re not really telling me much, to be honest.“

“Yet you were his emergency contact. You should demand more infomation.“

Dustin shrugs again. “I’m sure they’re gonna tell me once they know more.“ He pauses and, still refusing to look at Eduardo, decides that perhaps the time has come to face some uncomfortable truths. “You’re back here.“

“I’ve relocated to San Francisco a year ago.“

“You never told me. We could have hung out some time.“

Eduardo snorts; the sound is barely audible, but Dustin hears it all the same and he thinks he knows what it means.

“You’re mad at me because you think I knew about the dilution. I didn’t.“

“Are we really doing this now?“ Eduardo asks. “Here? And now?“

“You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t care about Mark.“

And caring about Mark meant caring about the rest of them, too. They were like the Beatles and Facebook had become Yoko.

“You made your choice, Dustin.“ Dustin is still not looking at Eduardo, but he can feel him shrug, making the same helpless gesture as Dustin. Perhaps none of them were ever really good about expressing their emotions in a healthy, adult way.

“I did not make a choice,“ Dustin says softly. “Facebook was all I was ever going to amount to. It was all I could do. I mean, look at me. My own company is not exactly a success, is it?“

“Then why did you leave?“

Dustin doesn’t want to answer this question. He does, of course, have an explanation. He has one that he has told everybody else, but if he’s honest, really honest, he doesn’t believe in it himself. Why did he leave?

“You all bailed and it was me with Mark,“ Dustin explains at last. “You all did things, experienced things. I never did. I was… The Lost Boy. From… from Peter Pan. I could never… grow up.“

Dustin is twenty seven years old and he has never had a meaningful relationship or friendship with anyone outside of their little group of misfits. It was easy to ignore this while everything was working. It was easy to deal with it even when Eduardo left. But then Chris left and Mark… Mark was only the glue. The glue didn’t actually interact with the pieces it was holding together.

Suddenly he feels Eduardo’s hand on his knee and looks up at him. “I really wish you hadn’t thought that way of yourself, Dustin. You could have done anything in the world. Anything.“

“I haven’t. And now it’s too late.“

“Have you ever told Chris?“

Dustin doesn’t need to ask what Eduardo means and the fact that Eduardo still knows, can still read him as easily as that is a testament to a friendship that Dustin should never have betrayed in the first place.

“He would never ever want me.“

“I…“ Eduardo swallows so hard Dustin can actually hear it. “I always thought the same about Mark and me, but the truth is… I think that he did want me. And I screwed up big time when I didn’t come to California when he asked me to and I think… I think that in the end I hate myself more than I hate him. I should probably see a shrink about this and maybe one day I will, but… Dustin, I don’t think you ever really understood Chris.“

“And you never understood Mark. Mark isn’t cold at all and he does care, but you need to be able to read him. It’s not enough to be in love with someone. You need to… I don’t know. You gotta understand them.“

They both admit defeat after that. The sun goes down slowly and eventually Chris arrives at the hospital. His hair is longer again, just brushing his collar, and Eduardo think s that Chris would have been the one for him. They would have made sense. They liked the same things and were capable of having conversations that didn’t revolve around computers and science fiction franchises. Yes, Chris would have been the obvious, logical choice. But he wasn’t. It was never him.

“I’ll go and get coffee,“ Dustin says and leaves without actually looking at Chris. It’s been a year since they last saw each other, but it might as well have been only a day ago. Some insecurities, some deficiencies aren’t simply forgotten because of time and space. Eduardo knows this better than anyone else.

“How’s everyone holding up?“ Chris asks with the hint of a smile that is probably meant to be encouraging.

“Let’s not act like everything is fine and this is some kind of fucked up reunion of old friends. We both know it’s not true and that nothing will ever be even remotely normal between the four of us ever again. Let’s talk like we’re not pretending to be older and not still just as hurt as when all of this started.“

Chris lets his bag drop, an unfamiliar flash of anger appearing in his eyes. “I’m here for Mark, Eduardo. I’m definitely not here to talk about Facebook or… any of it.“

“Well, but I am. I’m here because of that.“

It had to happen eventually. They had to meet on the battle field of hurt feelings, misunderstandings and cold fury. Eduardo just wishes he still had a little more time. He feels like a smoker who’s smoking his last cigarette and desperately wishing he could have just one more.

“Are you really here because of Mark?“ Eduardo asks viciously. “Or is it because you’re still in love with Dustin?“

It’s a low blow, Eduardo knows that, but he can’t help it. Chris chose Mark over him and Eduardo has never ever given him crap about it, mostly because he didn’t know what to say to hurt Chris. Because he wasn’t desperate or angry enough to hurt Chris. But now he is. Now his entire world has imploded because, fuck Mark, he feels guilty about what happened shortly before he left Mark.

“Why are you doing this now?“ Chris asks softly, so softly that Eduardo looks up, really looks at Chris.

Chris has always been the beauty of their group, there’s no way around it, but he’s not so very handsome now. He looks old and tired and burned out. Eduardo pulls up all the information he has about Chris and he knows that Chris has never married or been in any long-term relationship. It has never made any sense because Chris is handsome, smart, funny, sweet and rich. Only now it does.

“Why have you never told him?“ he asks desperately. “Why?“

“Because there’s no room for anyone else when Mark and you are together, Eduardo. You’re two forces of nature and everyone else just… sort of gets caught up in it. I never had to the time to sort myself out. I only knew that if I tied myself to Dustin, I’d forever be tied to you two, too. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life watching you destroy each other from the sidelines. I wanted a life of my own and I’m… I’ll never have that.“

Eduardo is sure that Chris would be crying if Chris actually had any tears left to cry. Closing his eyes, Eduardo forces himself not to think, not to feel. Perhaps he hasn’t been such a great friend, after all. He’s always thought that he could take some pride in that, at least. It wasn’t him who betrayed anyone. He was the good guy. It was everyone else who sucked. 

Suddenly he’s hugging Chris. He doesn’t remember getting up and he doesn’t remember winding his arms around Chris, but it feels good. It feels better than spewing hatred and words meant to sting.

“I’m so sorry,“ Eduardo whispers. “I’m so, so sorry.“

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?“

Mark wakes up some time before dawn. When Eduardo and Chris go in to see him his eyes are open and clear.

“I’ve been thinking…“

He trails off, leaving them to anticipate his next words. This is such a Mark thing to do, Eduardo thinks, always making the world spin around him. Oddly enough he’s not even angry with him anymore. Something about talking to Dustin and Chris and seeing how broken everyone else is… it has changed things.

“I think it’s time we talk. All of us. I like it better when you’re all here.“

Eduardo can’t help but smile. It’s like Mark has actually been awake to do all of his thinking or like he knew they would all be here, that they would all come running when he called. And they always would. Eduardo knows that.

“Where’s Dustin?“ Mark suddenly asks and reaches for his cell, placed on the nightstand by a helpful nurse.

There are several missed calls from the hospital, which is odd, and normally Mark would call them back to tell them they’re idiots, but he doesn’t. He calls back and calmly asks them what they want because he can feel it, can feel it in his bones that something is wrong.

“Mr. Zuckerberg, we have you listed as the emergency contact for Mr. Moskovitz…“

Marks listens and at the same time something inside of him detaches itself from the situation. If he actually allowed himself to think and feel about it, he would go mad, he’s sure of it. Not Dustin. He could have handled Chris or even Eduardo, but not Dustin.

“That idiot,“ he mutters when he hangs up. “That fucking idiot.“

“What happened?“ Eduardo asks anxiously, hovering right next to Mark like he always has and in this moment Mark actually appreciates it.

“Dustin has tried to kill himself.“

Mark has a suspicion that Dustin is the kind of suicidal person who does it in order to get some kind, any kind of attention. He wonders what Dustin would say if he knew that Chris has kind of collpased in Eduardo’s arms, that Eduardo is crying and that Mark ist he one who has his shit together for the first time in ages.

“Someone wheel me to ICU. Come on. No time for histrionics, Christopher.“

It has always been Dustin who uses Chris’ full name and perhaps that is the reason why he snaps to attention now. He squares his shoulders and manages to walk out of the door without Eduardo’s support. Eduardo has meanwhile managed to put Mark into a wheelchair and follow him. Mark is feeling like a general commanding his troops. They now have a mission, something to keep them together.

They must keep Dustin alive.


	2. The Night's Watch

In a way, Eduardo thinks, it was very easy to foresee what Dustin would do. It was also very easy to foresee that it was Dustin who would break first. If Mark was the social glue holding all of them together, Dustin was the most adhesive part of the entire engine. While Chris was still struggling against being part of whatever they were, Dustin had always wanted it to be that way.

Eduardo really should have known that Dustin wasn’t going to have coffee. He should have realised that it wasn’t going to take so long to get coffee. It was enough time, however, to throw himself in front of a car. Enough time for him to be rushed into surgery and enough time for Mark to formulate a vague battle plan.

“We’ll hire someone to be around him 24/7, obviously. I can’t do that myself and you two won’t be there all of the time, but it should work out. I’ve already asked my mother about acceptable therapists in the San Francisco area and she knows of someone she went to school with who isn’t half bad.“

Chris is just sitting there, watching Mark do his usual job of fixing everything. He is staring down at his hands, apparently trying to find some sort of pattern in his freckles, some sort of meaning to all of this. Eduardo sits down beside him, patting his back. “Chris?“

“I can’t do this.“

It is the first time any of them have heard Chris admitting defeat. It’s not in his nature or at least it wasn’t back when they first became friends. But people change, don’t they, and perhaps they don’t know as much about Chris as they should know.

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice,“ Mark interrupts. “I guess it’s safe to assume that the general situation between the four of us has led one of the most brilliant minds of our generation to think that his only option was to throw himself in front of a car. You have to help us fix him.“

“Fix him? Mark, he’s not a computer. You can’t update him or take your screw driver to his mind! He’s not going to… this isn’t Dustin. That’s not how Dustin is supposed to be and… and…“

Eduardo has never seen Chris at a loss of words before, has never believed that Chris could be anything but professional and helpful. But then again, they are talking about Dustin and whatever part Dustin plays in the general dynamic of their group, he is also irrevocably the love of Chris’ life. That’s one of those truths that are so obvious that you never really think about until something happens to unsettle the peace and reality of your existence.

“Get yourself together,“ Mark demands coldly. “I have a fucking concussion and I’m not half as whiny as you. Yeah, this happened and I’ll admit that it sucks, but we must deal with it. We can’t stay down in the past forever.“

“We’re not done yet, Mark,“ Eduardo says softly. “Not by a long shot, but I agree that we must put aside our differences for now and focus on Dustin.“

Chris doesn’t reply to that because, really, they’re making it about themselves again. They graciously put aside their differences and decide to handle someone else’s drama for once. None of them would be here right now if they weren’t such idiots.

Chris’ feelings for Dustin have never really been out in the open, but everyone knew about them anyway. Everyone except for Dustin himself who was caught up in a web of self-loathing and fear. Chris saw that and he didn’t do anything to stop it while he still could, telling himself it was better for Dustin. The truth is, it was better for Chris. He has never been fond of confrontations, of having to leave his comfort zone. Being with Dustin would mean just that. He would have to be with someone he actually cares about and that is…

“I can’t do this,“ he repeats. “Not with any of you. This isn’t helpful. The very people who have made him do it in the first place cannot help him out of it.“

“That’s where you’re wrong. If we caused this, we must end it.“

“They won’t even let us in,“ Chris whispers. “And they shouldn’t.“

He knows they will never understand how guilty he’s feeling and how he wishes he could be the one to help Dustin. The realisation that it won’t be him, not this time, hurts. Chris has always been the guy who was able to fix anything, but not now. Not anymore.

Eduardo looks at Mark in a way that makes him hold his peace, at least for a moment, and kneels down in front of Chris. “I have a pretty good idea of how you’re feeling and I wish I could take the time to comfort you, but I can’t. So either you pull yourself together or you leave. We really only have those two choices.“

Chris has never believed that Eduardo could be so forceful, but he has never believed Dustin would try to kill himself either, so maybe it’s fitting. Rubbing his eyes, he forces himself to calm down.

“Have any of you called his family?“ he finally asks like his break-down never happened at all.

“They moved to some obscure Carribean island and cannot be reached by phone. Dustin’s sister is somewhere in Africa, feeding hungry elephants or something. They aren’t coming so we have to run this show,“ Mark explains. “Can you keep this out of the press? Do we even need to keep it out of the press?“

“At this point we probably can’t, but I’m going to call the PR office anyway.“

Chris has hired most of the people in that department himself and he knows whom to trust with this. Unfortunately it’s too late at this point and the story has already hit the internet. There’s no way in hell they can downplay this or even explain it in any way that doesn’t make Dustin look suicidal.

When Chris gets off the phone, still wondering on how to spin this so Dustin won’t be pestered by reporters in the future, a doctor steps out of Dustin’s room. She looks tired, but she’s smiling anyway.

“He’ll make and with minimum damage, too.“

She explains about the broken bones, the hit his kidneys took and finally she comes to the thing her smile has been hiding. “We’re unsure about his right hand, though. It got stuck under the car and his fingers were broken multiple locations. He might not regain the use of this hand.“

Chris knows this will become a problem in the future because this is Dustin’s favourite hand (he never refers to himself as right-handed; he has a favourite hand and a bastard step-child hand) and this might also impact his work. But Chris thinks they have enough on their plate for now and so he only nods politely, smiles and thanks the doctor while Mark is rubbing his head.

“Are you okay?“ Eduardo asks. “Perhaps you need to lie down again.“

Mark should have seen that one coming; as soon as he lets Eduardo back into his life, he also has to allow Eduardo control over him again. The hovering, the fussing… they may not look like it, but they are a cage. They were something Mark needed to break out of back then, when all of this started.

“She said we could go in now.“ He wheels to the door and opens it. Turning around, he nods at his troops before making his way to Dustin’s bed. Dustin has a concussion too now. There are cuts on his face which might leave scars and there’s this hand that might never code again and the shattered knee and all kinds of things that can be fixed, can be fixed by someone else. What Mark needs to focus on is Dustin’s mind which somehow doesn’t seem to want to cooperate anymore.

“Hey.“ Dustin is smiling and Mark knows he shouldn’t be smiling. When you try to kill yourself, isn’t it because you’re sad?

“What are you grinning about?“

“I’m just glad you’re better, is all.“

“You’re an idiot, Dustin. You’re a fucking idiot and you know it. And don’t you think I’m pitying you like the rest of those idiots because I’m not. You will not be paid for the time you’re wasting here and I sure as hell won’t bring you any fucking flowers.“

It’s as close to an expression of worry and affection that Mark will ever come and Dustin knows it. For him that is good enough really. He has never wanted much, after all. He can see Eduardo behind Mark, hovering in his shadow like always. And…

“Chris.“

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the others’ effort, but there’s something about Chris that will always draw Dustin like a firefly to a child’s jar. He’ll always, always want and need Chris more than the others. He’s okay with the fact that Chris won’t ever want him that way. Or maybe he isn’t. He doesn’t know anymore. For some reason Chris’ presence brings the entire situation crushing down on him and it is all he can do not to yell at them to get the fuck away from him. Or to get the fuck closer. He really doesn’t know where the difference is.

“Dustin.“ Mark wheels back, over Eduardo’s feet, and Eduardo has the good grace not to yell in pain.

Chris sits down on the small chair next to the bed, the kind of chair that doesn’t encourage long visits, and reaches for his good hand. Dustin doesn’t give it to him, though.

“I can’t do that right now,“ Dustin explains softly. “I’m sorry.“

“You don’t need to be sorry, Dustin, not you. It’s us who should be sorry. Or rather me. I should’ve known y’all couldn’t do this without me and…“

He trails off, checking himself. You can take the boy out of the South, but not the South out of the boy. Dustin knows who hard it is for Chris to control his accent when he’s anxious.

Dustin sets his boundaries that day. He’s amiable enough, smiling and chatting with the nurses, apparently completely okay except for the fact that he has a couple of broken bones. The rest of them formulate a plan. It’s Mark’s plan mostly, but the others agree to it because they really don’t have much of a choice, do they?

Once Dustin is well enough to leave the hospital they will all move in with Mark and take care of him to the best of their abilities. When they tell Dustin this, he grins.

“ Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last bit is the oath the Night's Watch from 'Game of Thrones' takes. I thought Dustin would love that show!


End file.
